


Excess

by days4daisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Excessive Drinking, Excessive Everything, Loss of Control, M/M, Non-Explicit Fantasies About College Girls, Season 10 Dean Angst, Season/Series 10, episode: s10e13 halt and catch fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God, Dean wants...everything. He wants ten more bottles of booze. He wants lo mein, taquitos, and burgers. He wants five blonde sorority sisters squirming around him.</p>
<p>And he wants Cas. Wants him so damn bad.</p>
<p>--<br/>Takes place after 10x13 - "Halt and Catch Fire"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excess

"Maybe you should call Cas." Dean sits up like ice down the back of his shirt.

His surprise turns on Sam fast. "Why the hell should I call Cas? You've got him on speed dial. Already gave you the latest."

Sam gives Dean a look that only a brother can give. Apologetic, concerned, and a little agitated. "Just think about it, all right?"

"Heh, yeah. Think about it." Dean gets up stiffly. Grabs a fresh bottle of Jack from the counter. "You know what i'd rather think about, Sammy?" He shakes the bottle. 

Sam sighs, but he doesn't argue. He just goes back to his laptop. Maybe he dives into more research on Cain and the Mark. Or maybe he looks at a blank screen because it's easier than Dean's face. 

Dean feels a little guilty, but not enough to stop. The Mark tingles on his arm, warm with victory. 

The bottle dangles from Dean's fingers on his way to his room. He closes and locks the door. Flips some music on and twists open the bottle. Then, he crashes on his bed and drinks. Only comes up for air after draining a quarter.

Sam knows exactly why Dean won't call Cas.

Dean can drink himself stupid. Cram garbage food down his trap. Gawk at teenage ass. But he can't call Cas. It's the one thing Dean hasn't given into. Not yet.

His self-will is getting thin, though. It's even thinner with the booze swimming through his system.

Dean tips his head back against the bed frame. He opens his mouth slightly.

Something coils around his forearm. Twitches between his legs. Dean lets his thighs spread.

He shifts with discomfort. Jeans, damn it.

He tucks the whiskey bottle between his legs. Ugh, Dean even feels this. His hard-on pushes up on the cool glass, chafing denim. Dean licks his lips. His face feels hot.

God, Dean wants...everything. He wants ten more bottles of booze. He wants lo mein, taquitos, and burgers. He wants five blonde sorority sisters, squirming around him.

And he wants Cas. Wants him so damn bad.

Dean gropes into his pocket for his phone. His thumb combs through a blur of barely recognizable names. People he hasn't spoken to in years. Who knows if they're still alive? A smattering of one night stands, too - no names, just cities.

Then, "Castiel."

Dean punches the "Call" button. It rings once.

Dean hangs up, for all the wrong reasons.

Dean should be going down swinging. He's done searching, done looking for answers. But he still has to fight. Isn't this what Sam has been saying? Dean has to learn to live with this burden, like Cain? 

But Sam doesn't hear the Mark whisper to him, soft and inviting.

Dean groans. He tips his head back further, Adam's apple bobbing with thirst.  "Cas," he rasps. "Castiel."

Dean speaks to Cas in the most painful way. The way that will make Cas use what's left of his grace. The way that could kill him, if he listens too long.

"You should've seen me," Dean breathes, "staring at those girls. Kids, man. Barely out of diapers."

Dean's hand moves down his chest. Dips lower, to his jeans. He slides his fingers in a slow line across the zipper. His hips buck slightly.

Dean closes his eyes. He can see Cas' displeasure behind his eyelids. Cas' disapproval.

He chuckles bitterly. "I wanted to fuck 'em, Cas. If Sammy wasn't there, if we weren't on a case... All that skin, man. Virgins, everywhere. I couldn't stop looking at 'em. I tried, Cas. It hurt to stop."

Dean stiffens against the bedpost. His arm throbs with lust.  

Cas won't be angry with him. He'll be disappointed. Look at Dean like he should be stronger than this.

They've been through wars together. The goddamn Apocalypse. And this is how Dean is going out. Slowly losing himself to a demon. Everything turning black. 

"I'd fuck you if you were here," Dean says. There it is - the secret that was never really a secret. 

Dean used to want Cas right place, right time. Years of this dance culminating in something perfect. Nothing fancy, nothing big. Just a kiss, maybe. Behind closed doors. 

It's not supposed to be like this. But the Mark doesn't know. The Mark just craves, raw and hungry.

Dean swallows. His tongue tastes like sandpaper, and his cock is so hard. 

He hears himself chuckle again. This is insane. His cock is so goddamn hard...

Dean could have had those college chicks. And he can have Cas now, he knows he can.

Dean wants to throw Cas on the bed. Rip every shred of clothing off. Pin him to the mattress. He'll make the memory foam remember every line of Cas' body. Feel Cas break under his hands.

Cas would give in to him. Dean knows it. Cas would give him anything. He always has.

Dean clutches his forearm. The Mark pulses greedily.

"Cas," he whispers.  

Dean's phone rings.

He shouldn't answer, but he does. Dean's morals no longer matter. The Mark has control of his skin. It picks up his phone. Punches the "Answer" button. Pushes it against his ear.

"Dean?"

Dean grimaces. Cas' voice is like Metatron's blade. Like a hand between his thighs.

His feet dangle off either side of the bed. The bottle weighs heavy against his crotch.

Dean's voice wavers. "Hey, Cas."

"Do you need assistance?"

Dean laughs so hard, Sam must hear him from the study. Laughs so hard that tears sting his eyes. Laughs through the goosebumps that spring to his skin. Through the dark twist of need that tightens in his gut.

"Dean..." He hears Cas' frown. "If you need me, I will be there. Immediately."

Of course he will. Cas will drop weeks of Cain leads and appear in Dean's bedroom. He'll burn his dying grace for Dean. Appear in a lifeless heap on Dean's floor. If Dean asks it of him, Cas will do it. He won't even hesitate.

...Dean wants to. Cas might die, but it's worth the risk, isn't it? The request sits on his tongue, burning like poison.

"No," he murmurs. "Stay in Illinois."

"Dean-"

"Sammy wants you to keep looking," Dean says. For a moment, he sounds like himself. More controlled. "So keep looking."

"What do you want, Dean?"

_To fuck you._ The answer purrs through him. _Spread your ass with my fingers. Pound you deep with my cock. Bruise your wrists with my hands. Cut your neck with my teeth._ Dean licks his lips. He's so hungry...

"Cas," Dean forces out. "I just want this to be over. Maybe we figure this out. Maybe we just...end it."

Dean tears his jeans open and lays a hand over his boxers. His erection strains against his fingers.

"I'm tired, Cas," he says. "I'm so damn tired."

"I understand," Cas murmurs. "Are you sure I shouldn't come?"

Yes, Dean wants Cas here. He's wanted Cas for so long. But, not like this.

"I'm sure," Dean grits, too fast. "If you show..." 

Right now, he wants Cas like trash food. Like booze or sorority chicks. 

He doesn't want _Cas_. He wants Cas' body. His skin. His mouth. His dick, hard and thick. 

He wants Cas' grace, or what's left of it. Dean wants to use him up, every inch. Until there's nothing left of him.

"I won't do it, Cas." Dean barely gets the words out. "Not to you. We've already done too much to each other, man. I'm not screwing up again. Not like this."

There is a pause on the other end.

Then, a soft response. "I'll come, Dean. If you need me."

Dean smiles weakly. "Yeah," he says. "You always do. Just...let us know when you find something, all right?"

Cas sighs on the other end. The sound makes Dean's waist jut forward, pushing his cock into his hand. Dean bites the inside of his cheek.

"All right," Cas replies. "Rest, Dean. I'll see you soon."

He hangs up just as Dean is opening his mouth. He's about to tell Cas to wait, he was wrong. Wait, Cas should come. Wait, Dean needs him. Wants him. Please.

Dean forces his hand off his dick. Grabs his forearm hard enough to draw blood instead. He curls on himself, chin on his chest. Bile rises in his throat. 

Dean is stronger than this. He has to be _stronger_.

But a slow caress beckons him from inside. There's no harm in a little liquor, right? A little junk food, a little fantasy.

Dean has been the strong one all his life. Why not give in for awhile. Take another howl at that moon.

*The End*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm on [Tumblr](http://daisy4days.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi or angst about Season 10 with me. My heart is not ready for 10x14... o.o;


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